


You always come when I call

by thesaddestboner



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: Atlanta Braves, Drabble, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-31
Updated: 2012-08-31
Packaged: 2017-11-13 06:01:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/500273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesaddestboner/pseuds/thesaddestboner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>There's something so furtive and wrong about meeting Jeff under the bleachers, but also kind of romantic and passionate and tragic, and Brian supposes he likes it for being all of those things at once.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	You always come when I call

**Author's Note:**

> Old. Written for a comment fic meme in my journal.
> 
> You can find me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/thesaddestboner) and [tumblr](http://saddestboner.tumblr.com).

There's something so furtive and  _wrong_  about meeting Jeff under the bleachers, but also kind of romantic and passionate and tragic, and Brian supposes he likes it for being all of those things at once. Brian always did have a thing for big, romantic gestures, and Jeff's text— _lets meet up under the bleachers after curfew_ —counts.  
  
Brian leans back against a metal beam that's so cold he can feel it seeping between his shoulder blades, through his letterman jacket and t-shirt, and into his skin. Winter's almost upon them.  
  
He feels a hand snag on the sleeve of his letterman and he turns.  
  
"Didn't think you'd show up." Jeff is pushing him back against that cold metal, one warm hand pawing at his face.  
  
" 'Course I did," Brian says, bringing a hand up to cover Jeff's.  
  
"You always come when I call," Jeff says, eyes glinting. "I got you trained."  
  
Brian rolls his eyes and pushes Jeff's hand away just to be spiteful. "I'm not your dog."  
  
"I know that," Jeff says, after a few moments. He puts his hand back on Brian's cheek and turns his face so that they're eye-to-eye. "I really love you, Brian. You know that."  
  
Brian nods. "I do."  
  
Jeff laughs, and it's his turn to roll his eyes. "That's not how I pictured this moment going my head."  
  
"I love you too, Jeff," Brian says, because it's true, he does. He loves Jeff more than anything, more than his own family, maybe even more than baseball. He seizes Jeff's warm face in his cold hands and kisses him. The wind bites at their cheeks and stings their eyes, and Brian feels Jeff's breath come in hot puffs against his cheek when they separate.   
  
"Game seven's tonight," Jeff says, "Clemens and Schilling. You wanna come back to our place and watch with me?"  
  
"Won't your parents get pissed if they find out we were out after curfew?" Brian asks.  
  
"It's the World Series, game seven," Jeff says, grabbing Brian's hand. "It's baseball. They'll be cool."  
  
Brian squeezes Jeff's fingers in his own, because that sounds perfect. Jeff and baseball. "Okay. Sure."  
  
Jeff tugs on his hand briefly before letting go, and they race all the way back to Jeff's place just in time for the first pitch.

**Author's Note:**

> The author of this piece intends no insult, slander, or copyright infringement, and is not profiting from this work. This story is a complete work of fiction and does not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. This is for entertainment purposes only. If you found this story while Googling your name or the names of your friends, hit the back button now.


End file.
